


The Good Life

by hi_irashay



Series: Pinkerton Project [6]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Brooding, Feelings, Gen, M/M, Nobody but me, Potentially even too many Feelings, Songfic, Who do I got to blame?, so many feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 09:09:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hi_irashay/pseuds/hi_irashay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after Captain Kirk woke up from death, the day after Spock had brought Khan to submission, Spock stared at his face in the hospital bathroom for more than an hour. He barely recognized himself, had difficulty identifying the image in front of his eyes as his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Good Life

**Author's Note:**

> THE INSPIRATION: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gkroIXktjgE
> 
> THE CHALLENGE: 1) Fandom in which I'd never written, 2) a POV that was not my first instinct (aka forced myself to not go with the person who first came to mind).

Spock did not often pause to take in his own reflection. A cursory glance every morning before heading to the bridge, a glimpse after a physical altercation or strenuous exercise, all mainly to ensure the clean lines of his hair were maintained.

The morning after Captain Kirk woke up from death, the day after Spock had brought Khan to submission, he stared at his face in the hospital bathroom for more than an hour. He barely recognized himself, had difficulty identifying the image in front of his eyes as his own. Those scratches and bruises? He remembered getting those. The pointed eyebrows and ears were familiar as well. The sharp jawline, the slightly snubbed nose, the partially mussed hair ( _must fix_ ), all were his.

It was his eyes that puzzled him. No longer was his gaze the cool and calculating stare he had known since youth. His eyes looked moved, changed. He looked broken, beaten down. Old. His face remained as unlined and ageless as ever, but Spock felt as if his body would cave beneath the weight of the years reflected in his eyes. As if he needed a cane or other such crutch to help bear it

Spock searched his eyes keenly, shivering involuntarily. _Curious, this bathroom is at exactly 21 degrees Celsius_ , he thought. _Room temperature should not warrant a shiver response._ He shivered again - must be an emotional response. Illogical, and inconvenient.

Spock had yet to master his own feelings, and was rarely able to put a label to his emotionally-induced sensations, somatic or otherwise. Currently, his best guess was that he was feeling shaken by the Captain’s brush with death. Bitter over all that had happened with Khan. Alone. Above all, he felt alone.

"Ever heard the myth of Narcissus?" wheezed a voice behind him. Kirk, of course, somehow out of his bed in spite of his dangerously weakened condition. Cheating death, yet again.

"If you are suggesting I am going to die here, staring at my reflection, you are mistaken." Spock sighed, meeting Kirk's eyes in the mirror. "I believe it is you who is at greatest risk of dying in this hospital. You should not be out of bed."

"Shoulda, woulda, coulda, buddy." The captain winced as he clutched at his sides. "Though perhaps you're not wrong. Walk me back?"

Spock nodded, turning to face Kirk - the Captain leaned dangerously on the doorframe, looking as if a gentle breeze would topple him. Spock squared his stance, before walking forward and lifting the Captain's arm over his shoulder.

"Heyyyy leggo, I'm not dead yet," Kirk protested weakly, before slumping sideways onto Spock in acceptance. They walked in silence down the hall, making their way slowly back to Kirk's hospital room. Spock helped him ease down on to his bed and studiously reattached all the monitors and tubes. He felt Kirk's stare as he pulled up a chair to sit beside the bed, steepling his hands under his chin.

"I may not be in peak condition, here, but I'm not blind." Kirk's eyes bore into Spock's. "Something is definitely up with you, Spock, what gives?"

"I apologize, I should not complain.  I-" Spock stopped himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and squeezed his eyes shut. _Control yourself. Master this as you once could._

When Kirk died, however briefly his death may have lasted, something broke within Spock. A carefully constructed dam he had devised over years and years, cracked and fractured. Every single human emotion leaking through, spreading throughout his body, crackling electrically. His mind was clouded, his vision was blurry, his hearing dulled.

"I am feeling, Jim. I am feeling everything." Spock intoned flatly, using his voice to disguise the quiet storm within. "I should have no feeling ... feeling is pain. Feeling is weakness."

"Spock, no, it's not-" Kirk began.

"It is, Jim, can you not see?" Spock stood up abruptly, the electricity within him turned into a fireball of restless energy. He paced the space at the foot of the Captain's bed. "Everything I need is denied me. Everything I want is taken away from me. This is the way of life, but with all this **feeling** I find it impossible. I mourn, I grieve, I find things to be unfair."

He stopped, looking Jim straight in the eye. "Life is not inherently fair or unfair, it just is what it is. But now I do not find that sufficient or acceptable. Now, I want more. This wanting, this insufficiency - it is my own doing, and I cannot blame anyone else."

Kirk let out a low whistle. "Alright Spock, I think I lost you there. What exactly has your green blood boiling?” Kirk grinned at his own turn of phrase. _At least he amuses himself._

"I apologize again, Jim. I am not myself today." Spock sat back down in his chair, closing his eyes and letting his head fall forward. "I just... do not like this new state. I do not know how I got here, though I know it is my own fault that I am here. And I do not want to be here anymore."

"Oawwww Spockyboy, you're just becoming more like the rest of us!" Kirk gestured as grandly as his various tubes and wires would allow. "Welcome to the club! Billions and growing!" He paused for a beat, taking in Spock’s expression. “It’s totally normal for humans, you know. Feeling things, having emotions. Sucks sometimes, much of the time in fact… but it’s normal.”

"You remind me of my mother with this sentiment," Spock said, thoughtfully. A wave of unmistakable tenderness washed over him - _finally, something easily identifiable_. Spock allowed his lips to quirk up slightly in to a small smile. "She would also encourage me not to fight or question my own humanness." He paused, caught up in the memory. "She believed it to be a strength rather than a weakness. I had forgotten..."

Kirk nodded, remaining blissfully silent for a beat. But only a beat - "And now you remember?"

Spock considered for a moment, before replying, "I do." He gazed at Kirk, hoping the Captain could decipher the changes in his eyes where he, himself, had been previously unable.

Kirk let out another low whistle. “I feel as if I should be recording this kind of soul searching for posterity, Spock. No one is going to believe me when I tell them about it.”

Spock scoffed, though couldn't stop another small smile from overtaking his features. "Report it to whom you will, Captain. I embrace my humanness, including the propensity for, as you say, 'soul searching.'"

Kirk beamed - "No seriously, Spock, this is major. I feel like shouting it from the rooftops so the whole world can know. HEAR ME, HEAR ME, OFFICER SPOCK IS -"

"What on earth is all this commotion?" interrupted one of the hospital's nurses, looking slightly alarmed as she entered the room. "Captain Kirk, sir, you are supposed to be resting.”

“I feel very well rested, beautiful nurse” said Kirk, with all the air of a petulant child. “In fact, I think I’m cured. Discharge me! Spock agrees!”

Spock scoffed. “I assure you that I do not agree.” Kirk’s face fell at his words, causing Spock to soften his facial expression and gentle his tone. “Yet. I do not agree yet. Not much longer now, Jim.”

Kirk’s eyes pleaded with Spock halfheartedly, before the man slumped against his pillows in quiet acquiescence. “Fine,” he muttered sullenly. “But only because the drugs are good.”

“Besides, I would hate to lose my favorite, oh-so-compliant patient,” joined the nurse, her tone falsely bright and sarcastic. “Come on now, Captain, like we talked about last night. And the night before that. Here's your nighttime pain med with a little something extra to help you sleep." She injected the contents of a syringe into one of Kirk's tubes, before turning to Spock. "And visiting hours ended a long time ago, Mr. Spock. Thank you for your visit, but let my patient have his dreaded sleep."

"Yes, Spock," Kirk slurred playfully from his bed, the drugs already coursing through his system. "Let me rest!"

Spock smiled once more at his friend - "As you wish, Jim. I will be by tomorrow." He squeezed Kirk's hand as he turned to leave, pleased to feel a gentle pressure increase in return.


End file.
